DAVID MURDOCK: The hours of the birds

Sunday

Apr 7, 2013 at 12:01 AM

I have always heard that the “early bird gets the worm,” so I’m up and about most mornings before the sun is. As one might expect from the proverb, so are the birds. There’s a lovely time of the morning, right before sunrise, when all the birds start singing. I usually grab a cup of coffee and catch the show from the porch.

By David MurdockSpecial to The Times

I have always heard that the “early bird gets the worm,” so I’m up and about most mornings before the sun is. As one might expect from the proverb, so are the birds. There’s a lovely time of the morning, right before sunrise, when all the birds start singing. I usually grab a cup of coffee and catch the show from the porch.Over the years, I’ve watched all the birds that frequent my feeders enough to know about what time they’re going to show up. For example, right as they all start singing, a few intrepid “early birds” have already made it to the feeders. Those avian early risers are usually cardinals and smaller birds like sparrows and wrens. I always throw some black oil sunflower seed on the concrete, and the early risers congregate there.As the day gets a bit older, the birds really start to gather. Needing some early morning calories, they mob the feeders from about sunup and keep it covered until at least mid-morning. It sort of reminds me of trying to get into a Jack’s first thing in the morning for a sausage biscuit. Sometimes as many as 50 birds flit around the feeders, trying to find an opening.The sparrows are quite social, so they don’t push and shove quite so much. The cardinals, on the other hand, are quite brusque and bustling — they push the other birds out of the way and fight with each other. The sparrows seem to have figured out that there’s enough seed for all; the cardinals seem to believe that every single seed must be defended.Since spring started, I’m getting fewer and fewer visits from red-winged blackbirds (one of my favorite species) and more and more visits from goldfinches (another favorite species). That pattern probably has to do with the migration patterns of the two birds. The goldfinches arrive in Etowah County about this time, and they’re fascinating little birds. They arrive wearing their winter plumage, which brightens considerably over the next few weeks. They also feed in an interesting pattern. They like to eat on the ground, so they tackle the sunflower seeds on the concrete. They don’t sit and eat patiently like sparrows, nor do they push each other away like cardinals.Goldfinches generally take turns. In fact, they’re downright polite about it. The group on the ground eats for a little bit, and then they fly up to the top branches of the small trees bordering the concrete. Another group of goldfinches on the bottom branches takes the place of the first group. Another group on the middle branches moves down to the bottom, and the group at the top is replaced by the first group flying up to the top branches. It’s like a living waterfall of goldfinches.My feeders are usually fairly bare in the afternoons — only a stray bird or two shows up. As the afternoon turns into evening, however, the rush returns. I guess the birds are bulking up on calories for the night. I often get home from work to find a small flock waiting for me. Sometimes I think they’re all sitting there, tapping their little feet and chirping, “What’s taking him so long today?” The pattern at sundown is a mirror image of the morning pattern — same birds in reverse order.For the past couple of weeks, though, there has been a night shift at the feeder. Two of my feeders hang from the cross beam of a porch swing frame, which is about 10 inches in diameter. They are suspended by small chains looped over the cross beam. Several mornings, I’ve found the feeders pulled on top of the cross beam and opened. No bird is able to perform this action. Although an immediate suspect came to mind, I went out several times during the ensuing evenings to see if I could catch the raider. No luck.A friend and I were sitting on the porch talking one night when we heard the feeders rattling. I grabbed a flashlight and spotlighted the culprit, a young raccoon on the crossbeam. As soon as the light hit him, he dropped the feeder he was hoisting up and flew down the frame and across the road into the tree line.I told my friend that he’d be back in a few minutes. Sure enough, the raccoon scampered along the little branch that flows on the other side of the trees and skittered through the drainage pipe under the road and into the culvert on my side of the road. He peeked up from the culvert to see if we were still standing there. I caught him again in the flashlight’s beam. He stood there a few minutes, his eyes glowing green. Then he took off.Honestly, I don’t begrudge the raccoon a bite or two, but he was emptying the feeder every night. That’s just gluttony. I started putting a little hot pepper in the seed. Birds can’t taste pepper, so it doesn’t bother them. Raccoons and squirrels really don’t like it, though. The night shift has temporarily suspended operations. He’ll be back, though.

Online Services

Original content available for non-commercial use under a Creative Commons license, except where noted.
Gadsden Times ~ 401 Locust St. Gadsden, AL 35901, Gadsden, AL 35901 ~ Privacy Policy ~ Terms Of Service